Page 4 of Casita Casanova
Tilting my head as I look out over Manhattan, I raise my eyebrows. That’s a good question. “Both, I guess?”
“Dammit, Ridge. You literally pay me to make you look good and then you go fuck ‘n chuck a senator’s only daughter.”
“Formersenator,” I counter. I think it’s an important factor here that shouldn’t be overlooked. It’s not like the chick’s old man is anactivepolitician. Then I could sort of see a problem. But the guy’s old news. If anything, I helped him get back into the spotlight.
You’re welcome.
And, to be fair, I didn’t know she was a senator’s anything when her mouth was wrapped around my cock. I blow a kiss to my reflection in the glass and flex my biceps. Fuck, I’m a fucking god.
Gorgeous green eyes the color of jade.
Eight pack abs I work damn hard for.
A thick cock that would make most men jealous—and all womensalivate.
“She’s eighteen!” Beth snaps, reminding me she’s still annoyingly on the phone.
“Legal,” I counter.
“Barely,” she growls.
Sighing, I shrug. “Barely is still legal. And it’s not my fault I thought she was at least twenty-one. Chick wasin the club. Blame it on the goon checking I.D.s at the door, not me.”
“Jesus, Ridge, can you take any ownership? Ever?” She huffs. “You’re over ten years older than her. Don’t tell me you couldn’t tell!” The sound of rustling paper fills the silence. She’s probably flipping through pages of a magazine, looking at my pretty face plastered all over today’s tabloids.
To be fair, it was a great picture. The finger gun was a brilliant idea.
“They’re saying that you and your friendsran a trainon the poor girl—”
“Please.” I snort. “Hardly.” I wave my hand in the air to dismiss her. What a ridiculous notion. “Thatpoor girlbegged to be let into VIP with us.Begged. And none of us even fucked her, by the way, even though she wanted us to—”
She hisses in a harsh breath. “What iswrongwith you?”
I scoff, slightly offended by the question. Nothing’s wrong with me. Obviously. I’m perfection personified. I raise my hands up and press my palms against the glass, slowly swirling my hips for the city below me. If you listen closely enough, you can probably hear women swooning on the streets of Manhattan.
Absolutely nothing is wrong with me.
Virile.
Sexy as sin.
Powerful.
Filthy fucking rich.
I’m a god among men. Every woman’s wet dream and every man’s… well… I tilt my head. I’m probably every man’s wet dream, too, if we’re being honest. They want to be me. Be with me. Know me.
Ridge Westcott is the most eligible bachelor in New York.
Period.
But don’t expect to find that information in Avenue Magazine. I fucked the editor’s ex-wife and he still holds a grudge. Haven’t made the list since.
Okay, fine, they weren’t exes at the time, but who wants to bother themselves with small details like that? She wanted it; I gave it to her. End of story.
“Ridge,” Beth says on a long-suffering sigh. I can picture her broad shoulders deflating in defeat. She’s had it with me this time.
Beth is damn good at her job and I just make it harder for her every chance I get. Part of me feels like an asshole, you know? But it’s a small, barely noticeable part.
